


escapism

by andnowforyaya



Series: or forever hold your peace (kiho) [4]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Angry Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drug Use, Eating Disorders, Forbidden Love, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, KiHo Bingo, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Organized Crime, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-12-06 15:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11603595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: “Think about it like this,” Kihyun said, his lips curled into a coquettish grin, his eyes glittering, “if I were you and you were me, would you go home with me?”





	1. Chapter 1

_“Think about it like this,” Kihyun said, his lips curled into a coquettish grin, his eyes glittering, “if I were you and you were me, would you go home with me?” Kihyun was wearing a tight black shirt and tight black jeans and he was so beautiful that Hoseok had almost considered sending Minhyuk to fetch him for him, before he decided that someone so lovely couldn't be caught in such a way. No, Kihyun would need to be lured.  Wooed. Hoseok would need to put in the sweet, sweet effort that he so often didn't due to his own good looks to reel Kihyun in._

_“Yes,” Hoseok answered without hesitation, laughing to cover up how the alcohol had muddled his brain and it had taken some effort for him to follow Kihyun’s logic. “If our roles were reversed, still yes.”_

_“Because it’s a good idea?” Kihyun asked. His right eyebrow arched high, inquisitive. Hoseok wanted to touch him there, to smooth out the little wrinkles forming in his brow, but he was too far, behind the bar. Plus, Hoseok reminded himself that not everyone appreciated their physical space being crowded or compromised. He'd let Kihyun come to him, first._

_“Because we’re magnetized,” Hoseok responded, whiskey on his breath and emboldened by it and by Kihyun’s sharp beauty and quick tongue and by the lights flickering behind him at the bar and the heavy beats from the music that seemed to originate from everywhere and nowhere._

_Kihyun licked his lips and leaned forward over the bar, and Hoseok felt pulled to do the same. Their elbows touched on the flat surface. Kihyun said, “Is that your dad up there?” His eyes flicked to the VIP lounge area on the second floor, where the lighting barely reached, but Hoseok could make out the silhouette of his father, large and imposing, cut from straight lines and right angles. He could see the flash of his eyes as they landed on him -- his son -- and the boy his son was talking to. He could make out Hyunwoo, too, lurking behind his father, always close._

_“Maybe,” Hoseok said, not wanting his chances to be with Kihyun to be ruined by the knowledge that he was every bit in his father’s shadow. He licked his dry lips._

_“Won't he care?” Kihyun murmured, leaning closer. Their lips were so close Hoseok could feel each puff of breath as Kihyun exhaled. The man behind the bar tilted his head slightly, already anticipating the kiss, his eyes hooded._

_“I don't care if he cares,” Hoseok said recklessly, because he'd only just met Kihyun tonight but Kihyun made him feel wild and young and powerful. He was going to kiss him and fuck all the consequences. To hell with the life he'd been living. It was time to stop letting his father control him. It was time to be free._

_._

Hoseok awoke to Kihyun pushing weakly at his chest and whimpering, his eyes still closed, caught in a dream. He froze, stopped breathing, unsure if any movement would send Kihyun into more turmoil. Kihyun's body looked tiny in the sweater Hoseok had thrown over his shoulders, in the sweatpants he'd had to tighten at the waist with the drawstring, and now Kihyun was curled into a small ball against Hoseok's side and all Hoseok wanted to do was help him unfurl, to press himself against Kihyun’s body in reassurance and to give him all his warmth. But Kihyun pushed at Hoseok's chest again, eyebrows drawn low, and suddenly he was clawing against him, little mewls of distress escaping his lips.

Hoseok’s hands instinctively came up to hold Kihyun's wrists, keeping him still, but Kihyun fought against his hold, his distress climbing. “No,” he said, “no more!”

“Shh,” Hoseok said gently. “It's a dream. It's just me, baby. It's Hoseok. Kihyun? Open your eyes.”

“No,” Kihyun protested, shaking his head as he tried to pull his wrists from Hoseok's grip. Hoseok was worried he would end up hurting himself, so he held on, though he gave Kihyun some give as he pushed and pulled. “Please,” Kihyun cried, struggling lethargically, “please stop. Please stop.”

Hoseok's heart lurched in his chest as he realized what Kihyun was dreaming -- was having a nightmare about. He bit his lip to keep from crying himself. “It's me, baby,” he said again gently. “I'm gonna let go, okay? It's okay. Just open your eyes.”

Somehow Kihyun must have heard Hoseok through the haze of his nightmare, and his eyes snapped open on an inhale as his body tensed. In the half-second it took for Kihyun to understand where he was, he looked terrified, like a trapped animal. His eyes were so wide Hoseok could see the whites of them. Slowly, Hoseok let go of Kihyun's wrists, his heart pounding inside of his chest as Kihyun's expression shifted from panic to terror to anguish.

Kihyun blinked and then he said, “I'm gonna be sick.”

They barely made it to the toilet, Kihyun collapsing against the bowl hard, his knees crashing into tile. Hoseok grimaced at the impact and at the sound of bile hitting the water in the bowl. Kihyun had barely eaten, so there was little for him to throw up. It continued for longer than Hoseok felt possible, until Kihyun was just a shivering mass of bones against the toilet and Hoseok had to help him stand and lean against the counter. He wet a small, square towel with warm water and held it up to Kihyun’s face, waiting for his permission, and Kihyun leaned his cheek into the soft, warm cloth.

His eyes fell shut as Hoseok cleaned his face and neck. He breathed slowly, trying to get his shaking body under control, as Hoseok worked.

When Hoseok was done with the towel, he threw it into the corner where another dirtied towel already lay, and then he felt around the counter of the sink for a jar of moisturizer. “I’m going to put some lotion on, okay?” Hoseok whispered, his voice echoing in the small confines of the bathroom.

Kihyun nodded, eyes still shut. Hoseok opened the jar and dipped two fingers into the cream. When he touched his fingers to Kihyun’s cheek, the smaller man gasped and muttered, “cold,” in a plaintive tone, but didn’t protest any further. So Hoseok gently worked the lotion into Kihyun’s skin, massaging it lightly into his cheeks, traveling down lower to his neck and collarbone. He lost himself in the process, methodically massaging Kihyun, careful to avoid any cuts in the skin he came across. When he was done, he kissed Kihyun on the cheek, and then Kihyun’s hands were at Hoseok’s waist, pulling Hoseok closer until Hoseok was straddling him against the sink counter. Kihyun let his forehead fall to Hoseok’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said, resting.

“Don’t,” Hoseok said, feeling such a strong urge to wrap his arms tight around Kihyun, but he didn't for fear of crushing him. “It was nothing. I love you.”

Kihyun said, “I would kiss you but I need to brush my teeth.”

The comment surprised him. Hoseok chuckled. His chest felt light. He combed a hand through the back of Kihyun’s hair and gently coaxed the other to look up at him, and he kissed his forehead, noticing how Kihyun wrinkled his nose at the contact. “That was very you,” Hoseok told him.

Kihyun lowered his eyes again. “I missed you,” he mumbled, his hands inching slowly around Hoseok’s back to interlace. It was the first time Kihyun had said it since he awoke in the apartment.

Hoseok smiled despite himself. He caught his own grin in the bathroom mirror over the sink and noticed how large his frame was compared to the man in his arms. Kihyun fit against him perfectly, every curve beautifully aligned, and Hoseok wondered when that had happened, if their bodies had been formed like that from the beginning so that they would find each other or if their bodies had formed to each other’s, after. He kissed Kihyun’s temple, leaving his lips against the feather-soft little hairs there. “I missed you, too.”

.


	2. Chapter 2

_There was laughably little in the fridge of the apartment, but that would change soon. Hoseok planned to make a grocery trip later today, and maybe Kihyun would even want to come along with him. Kihyun had been staying overnight at Hoseok’s apartment in Gangnam more often, and once Hoseok realized that funny dip his heart made whenever he woke up and saw Kihyun’s peaceful sleeping face on his pillow was something more than affection and dangerously close to love, he’d invited Kihyun for a weekend away from the city._

_“Where will we go?” Kihyun had asked playfully over dinner, twirling and retwirling pasta onto his fork. Hoseok had discovered that he loved watching Kihyun eat, loved to watch the expressions change and pass over his face as he tried new things and new flavors._

_“Not far,” Hoseok had said. “I have a place outside the city.” A secret hide-away, a safe place. Hoseok wanted to spend more than one consecutive night with Kihyun, wanted the quiet comfort with him that could only be afforded when he didn’t have to worry about ushering Kihyun out the door in the morning to escape running into Hoseok’s father or anyone who knew Hoseok’s father. He wanted to fall asleep with him on the couch watching television. He wanted to know what Kihyun was like in the softest hours of the day, just before falling asleep and just after waking._

_Kihyun had pouted, and Hoseok had laughed in the Italian restaurant where they were having dinner. “One day, maybe Roma?” Hoseok had asked with an eyebrow quirked. “But for now, just spend the weekend with me.”_

_“Very well,” Kihyun had said with a put-upon sigh, but his downcast expression quickly gave way to a grin._

_And now they were here, and it was Saturday morning, and there were only a few packets of instant ramen, some pantry staples in the cupboard, and a few sad items in his fridge: a carton of eggs with only two eggs three days away from expiration, a couple of small jars of various kimchi. Hoseok heard footsteps behind him, and when he turned to look, he saw Kihyun emerge from the bedroom wearing one of Hoseok’s hoodies and nothing else, his bare legs pale in the morning light. Hoseok wondered if the insides of Kihyun’s thighs still carried the blooming bruises he had left the night before._

_Hoseok smiled and turned back to examine the contents of his fridge, and soon he felt Kihyun’s arms wrap around his middle from behind, felt Kihyun fit his chin against his shoulder. “Breakfast?” Kihyun murmured sleepily into Hoseok’s ear._

_Hoseok said, “How do you feel about ramen?”_

_Kihyun laughed, his arms tightening around Hoseok, and said, “A true bachelor,” only it didn’t feel like an insult, but rather a term of endearment. He nudged Hoseok to the side with his hips so that he could peer into the cold fridge himself. “You want stir-fried noodles instead?”_

_Hoseok’s stomach grumbled, which was answer enough. He leaned back against the counter with the sink and watched as Kihyun rummaged through the cupboards and brought out two packets of ramen and some cooking oil. He brought the eggs and the kimchi out of the fridge. “Go do something else,” Kihyun said, looking over his shoulder at Hoseok. “I can get nervous when people watch me cook.”_

_It was the most precious thing that could have been said to Hoseok in that moment. Warmth washed over him, all the way down to his toes. “I love you,” he said, for the first time._

_Kihyun’s ears turned pink. He looked perfect in Hoseok’s hoodie. “I love you, too,” he said._

_._

Hoseok was reheating the porridge he'd made on the stove. Minhyuk and Hyungwon had returned yesterday with packaged soft tofu that he could add to the rice, as well as a couple of small containers of pre-made pickled vegetables and side dishes. He worried that some of the food would be too strong for Kihyun's stomach to handle, but he knew he wanted to try to get Kihyun to eat again, and more this time.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned, seeing Minhyuk looking a little worse for the wear, in rumpled jeans and the same shirt he'd worn since bringing Kihyun home, his blond hair like a nest on top of his head.

“Whatcha cookin’?” Minhyuk asked sleepily, eyes still half closed. Hoseok peered further over Minhyuk's shoulder and spotted Hyungwon still horizontal on the couch, his long body stretching the entire length of the piece of furniture. Had they shared the couch last night? Hoseok had been so focused on Kihyun he'd barely noticed or remembered the other two were still in the apartment.

“Porridge,” Hoseok said, giving the pot on the stove a stir with the ladle. The rice porridge was thick and stuck to the sides of the pot, and the steam rising from it was clean and hot.

“How was he? Is he?” Minhyuk asked. He came to stand beside Hoseok, peering into the pot for a moment and wrinkling his nose.

“Resting.” Hoseok paused before admitting a bit guiltily, “He had a nightmare last night. And he's not feeling well. I told him he would have another dose of the pills Changkyun gave us but he needed to try to eat something first.”

“Yeah,” Minhyuk said. “He needs to eat.”

“He said it hurts,” Hoseok explained.

“Maybe we should try a clear soup instead?” Minhyuk suggested simply.

Hoseok felt like his stomach had dropped to his feet at the idea. “I'm so stupid,” he said angrily. “Why didn’t I think of that? Of course.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself, Hoseok. Here, Hyungwon and I picked up boxes of chicken broth. We can just heat it up, see if he can handle it with some of the tofu?” Minhyuk moved with purpose, opening the cabinets and taking out a small box of the broth while Hoseok stood frozen in front of the stove. Minhyuk nodded at him, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “I got this,” he said quietly. “You go stay with him. You've only got a few hours before you have to go, right?”

It took a moment to register what Minhyuk said, but when it did, Hoseok thanked him and left the kitchen. He had precious hours left with Kihyun before he had two flights to catch -- one going _to_ Japan and one coming home _from_ Japan. And after that he would go home to Dasom and watch the hours until he could find a time to sneak away to see Kihyun again. He crossed into the living room to where Hyungwon was on the couch and adjusted the throw blanket so that it was over his shoulders again, and only after that did he go back into the bedroom, eyes immediately traveling to the lump under the covers in bed.

“Kihyunnie?” he whispered. “You awake?”

The lump shifted and groaned. “I'm awake,” Kihyun said, but pulled the covers over him higher. “It's freezing, Hoseok.”

Hoseok frowned and walked to the bed. Kihyun was visible only from the eyes up, his hair wild over the pillow and the rest of him covered by the fluffy blanket. He could hear Kihyun's teeth chattering, though, and sat on the edge of the bed, putting his arms over the shape of the smaller man. “Are you sick?” But when he put his hand against Kihyun's forehead it didn't feel particularly warm.

“It'll pass,” Kihyun managed through his chattering teeth. “I think.”

“Let me get you another blanket.” Hoseok stood again, but the only other blanket he could think of in the apartment was currently over Hyungwon’s body. He went anyway, thinking he should wake Hyungwon up to ask if there was anything else for Kihyun he could do.

Except Hyungwon slept like a log.

“How are you like this?” Hoseok gritted through his teeth at his third attempt to wrestle the blanket from Hyungwon’s hands. With his eyes closed, Hyungwon looked peaceful though his grip was like iron, and he had twisted the blanket around his body in a way that it was impossible for Hoseok to simply yank it from him. He could potentially carry Hyungwon and the blanket over to Kihyun, but somehow that didn’t feel like a good idea.

“I need the blanket,” Hoseok said, tugging again. “Kihyun’s cold.”

“Five more minutes,” Hyungwon mumbled before rolling over.

Minhyuk wandered in, then, a small smile on his lips as he watched Hoseok struggle. “You’re a grown man,” Minhyuk said. “Not his mother waking him up for school.” Without hesitation Minhyuk strode up to the couch and leaned over Hyungwon and flicked him hard with his fingers on the forehead. Hoseok could hear the _thunk!_ his fingers made against Hyungwon’s skull and flinched.

Hyungwon’s eyes snapped open, and then his mouth. “What the hell, Minhyuk,” he complained, bringing a palm up to his forehead to rub the spot Minhyuk hit. “That hurt.”

“Hoseok needs the blanket you’re hogging,” Minhyuk said, standing up straighter and crossing his arms. “And you need to wake up.”

“Those two things are not related,” Hyungwon quipped, kicking the blanket off of him and putting his face back into the pillow on the couch.

Hoseok took the blanket and bundled it into his arms. “Kihyun’s freezing,” he said. “Is that normal?”

“Yes,” Hyungwon said. “It probably feels like a bad fever right now,” he reminded them. “But in a way, this is okay, because it means the drugs are leaving his system.”

“Okay,” Hoseok said, not convinced. He wanted to get back to Kihyun, and Minhyuk noticed this, motioning for him to go. But he couldn’t leave just yet.

“Will you explain everything to him?” Hoseok asked. “What he’s going through? I’m going to tell him I have to go, again. But if he forgets, can you remind him I’ll be back? A couple of times last night it was like -- it was like he forgot he was with us, now.”

“Of course,” Minhyuk said, worry in his expression. Hyungwon sat up, awake now. He said, “You can count on us.”

Hoseok’s chest felt tight and hot. He held the blanket tightly in his arms and nodded, thanking them, hoping against hope that everything would be alright.

.


	3. Chapter 3

_For the third time that night, Kihyun hooked his fingers under Hoseok’s chin so that he could fit their lips together again in a sloppy kiss colored by the pulsating music and lights of the club. Technically, Hoseok was here on business, but Kihyun had found him and pulled him aside and trapped him against the wall under the second floor balcony, where the light barely reached. The wall shook with the beats of the music as Kihyun pressed himself between Hoseok’s thighs. “Distracted?” Kihyun laughed when he pulled back from the kiss, breathless and gorgeous even though Hoseok couldn’t really see._

_“Supposed to be here for work,” Hoseok said, hands coming to fall naturally onto Kihyun’s slim waist. He bit back a groan when Kihyun ground himself against him slowly._

_“With daddy?” Kihyun asked. He raised his eyebrow, taunting. “Thought you didn’t care if he sees.”_

_“Well,” Hoseok said. “That was before.”_

_“Before what?”_

_Hoseok struggled to respond. He said, “Just -- before. Things have changed,” hoping that would be enough for Kihyun for now. He needed to be more careful. His father had begun questioning him about his activities over the past few weekends, where he went late at night, who he was with, and why. Hoseok had played up his storied promiscuity as a blanket response, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough, or sustainable. Once his father suspected something amiss, he would dig and dig and dig until he’d unearthed that thing and struck it out._

_Kihyun frowned but didn’t pull away; he kissed Hoseok again instead, slow and lingering and igniting a burn low in Hoseok’s belly. Hoseok lost himself in the kiss. Allowed himself to be lost. The music flooded over them both as the kiss deepened, open-mouthed, Kihyun panting hotly. He was under the balcony and his father was just upstairs, waiting for him. Probably impatient. Probably sent people already to look for him, to drag him up. They were supposed to talk numbers for the club, but all Hoseok wanted to do was switch positions with Kihyun and slowly fuck him against the wall._

_But he couldn’t. “Kihyun--” he tried, when he could get a breath._

_Kihyun paused with an exhalation, his cheeks ruddy when Hoseok could see as the strobe lights flashed quickly over him._

_“Baby, I have to go upstairs,” Hoseok said. “Don’t leave this space for, like, five minutes, okay?”_

_Kihyun’s curious expression turned into one of incredulity. “What? Why?”_

_“It’s just better if you wait. Trust me.”_

_Kihyun crossed his arms and frowned, eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean? You really don’t want anyone to see us together?”_

_Hoseok fished for something that would be believable. “It’s my business,” he explained carefully. “My place of work. I don’t want anyone to think I’m doing you any favors.”_

_Kihyun’s expression didn’t change, and Hoseok wanted desperately to bring him back into his arms and to keep kissing him and to stop lying to him. Kihyun’s voice was brittle when he spoke next. “Are you -- ashamed of me? Is that why we never go out in the city anymore? Is that why you always hide me away outside of Seoul, in that apartment? You don’t want anyone to see.”_

_“What? No,” Hoseok nearly shouted. He did reach out to hold Kihyun close again, but Kihyun didn’t come to him, shaking his head at Hoseok. “I promise that’s not it,” Hoseok said more softly. “Kihyun? I promise.”_

_Kihyun was still shaking his head. “No, you’re lying. Maybe not about this. But about something. Something big. I know it.”_

_I’m trying to protect you, Hoseok wanted to say. The less you know, the better._

_But everything sounded trite in his own head. Lines spoken by the protagonist hero in movies. Hoseok was certainly no hero._

_“Kihyun,” he tried again, “please. Let’s talk about this.”_

_“I have to work,” Kihyun said too quickly, turning away from Hoseok. When Hoseok threw out his hand to hold onto him, he had already moved out of his reach, and then Kihyun was stepping into the crowd on the dance floor, moving and weaving deftly through the bodies there._

_Hoseok took a moment to gather himself together, to pull his heart back into his chest. Maybe this would be okay. Maybe they should drift apart like this now, if only to prevent inevitable heartbreak in the future. He took a few more moments, catching sight of Kihyun again at the bar, swiping furiously at his eyes and saying something to the bartender. Fitting that smile back onto his face and picking up a tray of shots._

_Hoseok made his way upstairs slowly._

_His father was waiting for him, watching the activities of the club from the edge of the balcony, his shoulders a straight, formidable line. He approached him at the edge. His father didn’t even turn to acknowledge him._

_He said, “Who was the boy you were with under the balcony just now?”_

_Hoseok’s blood froze inside of his veins. He tried to keep the panic from his voice, but his knuckles were white from his grip around the railing. “No one,” Hoseok said. “A shot boy. He works here.”_

_Hoseok’s father made a low noise in his throat that sounded to him like a growl. He said, “I see. Just a pretty little no one.”_

.

Changkyun was already waiting for him at the coffee shop when Hoseok arrived. Waiting, and falling asleep in his chair, his legs akimbo and his head bobbing back over the top of the seat, his mouth open. He’d chosen a table outside under an umbrella, and the sun caught one of his legs below the knee where the shadow ended.

Hoseok chuckled as he neared. Changkyun worked long hours at the hospital, and he often looked disheveled or confused when he wasn’t wearing his white coat and name badge. Hoseok kicked at Changkyun’s leg to announce he had arrived, and his friend snorted as he awoke, sitting up quickly in his seat.

“Rude,” Changkyun muttered, rubbing his eyes.

“You’re gonna find yourself missing your phone and wallet, falling asleep like that.”

“Only a true criminal would say that,” Changkyun teased.

Hoseok sat across from him and made himself comfortable. “Changkyunnie,” he said, “do you have what I asked for?”

“More doses?” Changkyun said. “Yeah, here.” Changkyun reached into his pocket and pulled out an orange prescription bottle, shaking it and making the pills inside rattle. Hoseok made to take them, but Changkyun pulled the bottle from his reach. “No, hyung, wait. I need you to answer a few questions first.”

“Oh ho?” Hoseok asked, a huff escaping him impatiently as he sat back. “Have I been rubbing off on you?”

Changkyun tutted. “Please,” he said. “You’re hardly a gangster.”

“I’m _literally_ a gangster,” Hoseok said.

“Your dad is,” Changkyun said. “But you’re not. I just want to know how my patient is doing. What is he going through? Is he in any pain?”

Hoseok sighed, thinking of Kihyun and how thin he’d become, how small and brittle, about Kihyun’s dreams, how it was still hard for him to eat anything, let alone keep food down. “He’s not having an easy time,” Hoseok said finally, with difficulty, his chest aching.

“Is there anything more I can do…?”

Hoseok fiddled with his hands in his lap. “I can’t risk you knowing where he is. I can’t.”

Changkyun’s expression was tight, his mouth a thin line, but he nodded. “I understand.” After a moment, he said, “Just please consider it if anything gets worse. My help, I mean.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened. “Of course,” he said, grateful to have such a friend in Changkyun.

Changkyun sighed and put the orange bottle on the table near Hoseok. “Okay,” he said. “I’m going to grab a coffee and go back to work. Dasom barely let me have this break.”

Guilt roiled inside Hoseok at the mention of his wife’s name. “Dasom...how is she?”

Changkyun was already standing. He laughed when he heard Hoseok’s question, then stilled when he saw Hoseok was not joking. “Wait...you’re serious? You’re married!”

“I don’t see her much,” Hoseok explained. “I’ve got -- work -- and she’s so busy at the hospital.”

“Well, you could come back with me,” Changkyun said. “Give her a surprise visit. Could be nice.”

Hoseok smiled but there wasn’t any feeling behind it, a detached muscle movement. “Maybe some other time.”

Changkyun nodded and winked. "Don't worry, by the way. I haven't told her anything."

Hoseok watched Changkyun as he order his coffee inside, and waved to him again as he left out the front door. His thoughts strayed back to Kihyun. He wondered if he'd be able to get away tonight to see him.

.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter gets explicit

_ Kihyun’s apartment was a minimal space in a slightly run-down area of Seoul, away from the main streets and bright lights. Hoseok had asked Hyunwoo to drive him to a nearby bookstore under the guise of wanting to pick something up and had told him he’d find his own way home. Never mind that the last time Hoseok had picked up a book of his own volition was years ago in college. From the store, Hoseok had taken a bus for two stops and then walked for almost fifteen minutes, half of which was uphill, to a little cluster of buildings that contained the apartment that Kihyun called home. _

_ “Smells amazing,” was the first thing Hoseok said when Kihyun opened the door. Hoseok was slightly out of breath because Kihyun’s apartment was also a fifth floor walk-up. He had the collar of his coat turned up and he felt that his nose was slightly pink at the tip, and it smelled like warmth and sweetness and familiar, cozy things beyond the door. Kihyun was standing there in slippers and a hoodie  and sweats and a wry little grin on his face and Hoseok wanted to turn back around, to start the night over, to keep running it up until this point in an infinite loop. _

_ “I just finished cooking,” Kihyun said, stepping aside to let Hoseok in. They kissed at the door, the way couples do in movies, one lover welcoming the other home. It made Hoseok’s toes curl in his shoes. He slipped them off and padded into the apartment in his socks. _

_ Kihyun’s space was clean and devoid of clutter. The apartment consisted of a single studio space with a door to the side which Hoseok assumed led to the bathroom. Kihyun’s bed was shoved into a corner, sectioned off by low bookcase, and there was space enough for a little couch and coffee table in front of the tiny kitchen.  _

_ “It’s not much to look at,” Kihyun murmured, pink tinging his cheeks, as he took Hoseok’s coat from him. He hung it up in his wardrobe by the bed.  _

_ “It’s lovely,” Hoseok said honestly, because this was the first time he had dared to enter Kihyun’s space, and it would be the last. He would have to make it his last. “I love it. It’s so...you.” _

_ Kihyun waved to the coffee table and couch, beckoning Hoseok to sit. “I’ll pour some wine.” _

_ Hoseok sat and examined the books on Kihyun’s coffee table, which was a simple model of light wood. Most of Kihyun’s furniture attempted to match, and the area rug under Hoseok’s feet was light grey. The books on the table were large art books, photography books, recipe books. They’d been flipped through many times, judging by how worn some of the edges were. Underneath these books were textbooks, also, for the classes Kihyun was taking part-time at university. Hoseok thumbed through these as well, but they were of passing interest, especially since Kihyun returned with two glasses of wine, set them down on the table without coasters, and turned to go back to the kitchen again. _

_ Hoseok’s hand darted out to catch Kihyun’s wrist in a gentle hold. It made the other boy stop and peer over his shoulder at Hoseok inquisitively. “Yes?” _

_ “Stay,” Hoseok said. “You’re moving around too much. You’re making my head spin.” _

_ Kihyun laughed softly and the sound went straight through Hoseok’s chest and made him breathless. “I just wanted to bring the food over,” Kihyun explained. _

_ “I’m not hungry yet,” Hoseok whined. “Sit. Let’s talk. I missed you.” _

_ Kihyun’s expression softened. He sat next to Hoseok, thigh touching thigh. “I missed you, too. It’s been, what, two weeks and a half?” _

_ Hoseok nodded. “Too long.” So much had happened in these two weeks. So much had changed. “I just want to hold you.” _

_ “Yeah?” Kihyun whispered. “I’m right here, you big softie.” _

_ Hoseok grinned, nuzzled Kihyun close. He loved the way they fit together, Kihyun’s head on his shoulder and Hoseok’s arms around him. He loved the shampoo that Kihyun used that made him smell like strawberries. He inhaled deeply, and felt his eyes beginning to sting. He couldn’t pretend any longer. _

_ “I have to tell you something,” Hoseok said quietly and slowly, so that his voice wouldn’t break. _

_ Kihyun pulled back when he heard the seriousness in Hoseok’s tone, worry in his eyes. God, but he was beautiful. Hoseok felt his lower lip tremble.  _

_ “What?” Kihyun asked. “What’s wrong? What is it, baby?” _

_ A dam clogged up Hoseok’s throat. He tried to push past it but couldn’t, not with Kihyun looking at him like that. Instead, he reached out for the wine and drank half of it at once, taking big, sour gulps. His throat burned, now, but it worked to loosen the dam. “This is the last time I can see you,” he said, only a little proud that his voice didn’t wobble. _

_ Kihyun didn’t react at first. But then he did, and it was to narrow his eyes and then to scoff incredulously. “Okay, very funny. You got me,” he said begrudgingly. He made to stand, but Hoseok pulled down on his wrist and Kihyun stayed seated, eyes widening. _

_ “I’m serious,” Hoseok said. “I can’t see you anymore. It’s too dangerous.” _

_ Kihyun yanked his wrist back from Hoseok, glaring now, expression hurt and confused. “This isn’t funny,” he said. “Stop it.” _

_ “I’m not joking. I’m getting married in a month. Her name is Dasom. And this is the last time I can see you.” _

_ “Who the fuck is Dasom?” Kihyun spat. _

_ “The daughter of a friend of the family,” Hoseok said. He was strangely calm -- no, removed. Like he was watching all of this happen from the outside, like he was playing an avatar that looked like him in a video game. He watched as the emotions flitted across Kihyun’s face rapidly: confusion and then anger and then disgust and then something wretched Hoseok couldn’t place in the moment but that he would come to recognize later as heartbreak. He’d broken Kihyun’s heart.  _

_ “You’re serious,” Kihyun realized aloud, his voice strained. “You’re actually serious. And you -- what? What did you want me to do? I mean, why even come over at all? Why not just -- stay away? You were already doing such a good job of that, anyway.” _

_ That stung. Hoseok winced, remembering all the texts and calls he’d ignored throughout the days. He’d had to be extra careful to make sure no one knew he was still contacting Kihyun. “I did it to protect you,” he explained. Even to his own ears, it was weak. _

_Kihyun exploded. “_ Fuck _you.” He stood, and flung his own glass of wine at Hoseok’s face, dousing him in red. “Fuck you. You condescending sack of -- You didn’t have to come back. You didn’t have to get my hopes up. Why did you come back?” He was crying, or was Hoseok crying? They both were. Kihyun trembled when he cried, like it came from somewhere so deep inside of him it could shake him apart. He said in a small, broken whisper, “I made dinner.”_

_ “Ki--” It was all that got out of Hoseok’s mouth before Kihyun had slapped him across his cheek. It shocked him more than hurt him, and when he turned to look at Kihyun he could see it had shocked him, also. _

_ “Fuck,” Kihyun said. “I’m sorry.” _

_ Hoseok surged up and forward and caught Kihyun’s lips in a kiss. It burned where they touched, where Kihyun pressed against him, fighting back. He shoved Hoseok back down onto the couch and climbed on top of him and ground his hips against Hoseok’s as he bit Hoseok’s lips until they were swollen. Hoseok moaned, breath hot, panting when Kihyun let up a little to rip Hoseok’s shirt from his chest and began to leave love bites against his collarbone. _

_ “Ki--” Hoseok said again, swiveling his hips where Kihyun was straddling him.  _

_ “Shut up,” Kihyun hissed, kissing his lips again. “For God’s sake, don’t say anything.” _

_ So Hoseok didn’t. He responded instead with his fingers digging into the meat of Kihyun’s narrow hips, pulling them flush and hard together. Kihyun was trying to unbutton Hoseok’s pants but at the same time frantically shoving his own sweats off, his briefs, and by some miracle Hoseok found in the next breath that Kihyun was straddling him again, bare from the waist down, as he worked his hands over Hoseok’s cock. He’d only pulled Hoseok's jeans down far enough to tug out his dick, just below the swell of his ass, and the elastic band of Hoseok’s briefs dug into his upper thighs. _

_ Kihyun leaned over to kiss him punishingly hard, and Hoseok could feel himself rubbing against the cleft of Kihyun’s ass.  _

_ “Prepped,” Kihyun whispered against him. “Prepped for you. I was so ready. So ready.” _

_ His cockhead nudged against Kihyun’s slicked entrance, and Hoseok moaned, rolling his hips.  _

_ Kihyun wasn’t interested in taking his time. He lined himself up and sank onto Hoseok’s dick inch by inch until he was flush, wincing against the flare of pain it brought. He growled and snapped his teeth when Hoseok showed a modicum of tenderness by bringing his fingers up to gently swipe at the tears that had gathered at the corners of Kihyun’s eyes. “Does it feel like this when you fuck Dasom?” Kihyun said, swiveling his hips and eliciting another moan from them both. _

_ God, Kihyun was so tight, even though he’d prepped. He felt so good around Hoseok’s dick, so warm and lush and perfect. Hoseok shook his head, because nothing could ever compare to this feeling, this electricity shared between them. He knew that. He thrust up into Kihyun’s tight heat, matching Kihyun’s frantic pace and measured brutality. The sound that fell from Kihyun’s lips -- part tender cry, part anguished scream -- went straight to Hoseok’s balls. _

_ Kihyun was on his knees, lifting himself and shoving himself back down, over and over again. The couch squeaked underneath their bodies, loud and obscene in the single room. _

_ “Fuck,” Kihyun said again, voice thin and needy now. He was flushed all over, eyebrows knitted together. Hoseok wanted to see him climax. He wanted them to orgasm together. He was so close. He yanked Kihyun down so their chests were sticky against each other and pistoned his hips as quickly as he dared, the friction delicious and hot. He felt Kihyun spasm around him as he cried. “Hoseok -- fuck -- oh my god--” _

_ Kihyun came with his arms tight around Hoseok’s shoulders, his face buried in Hoseok’s neck, mouth open and breath hot against Hoseok’s jugular. He felt Kihyun’s release between their bodies, hot and sticky, and bit into his bottom lip as everything came to a head and he tipped over the edge. His orgasm ripped through him and he groaned, muttering words he couldn’t be sure of as he filled Kihyun up.  _

_ When he became aware again he realized Kihyun was still on top of him, whimpering every few seconds, breathing deeply. Hoseok was softening. He slipped out of Kihyun and startled when this elicited a pained cry from the smaller man, the other’s arms tightening around him again. “I’m sorry,” Hoseok said quickly, voice raspy, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby.” _

_ “Don’t say that,” Kihyun muttered. “You don’t mean it.” _

_ “I do,” Hoseok argued gently, a well of sadness filling up the cavity in his chest. His eyes were hot again, and filling with tears. He held Kihyun tenderly, carding his fingers through the other’s hair. “I’ll say it so many times. I love you. I’m sorry. It has to be this way.” _

_ “Or your family will kill me?” Kihyun said, to Hoseok’s shock. He stopped breathing. Kihyun chuckled at the pause, but it sounded sad. “I know about them. I work at the club, Hoseok. How could I not know? But I thought -- it’s stupid but I thought maybe we’d get away with it. We still could.” _

_ Hoseok held onto him more tightly. He breathed in Kihyun’s strawberry-scented hair. “I don’t know. It scares me -- that you could get hurt. Scares me more than you can imagine.” _

_ “It scares me that you could get hurt, too,” Kihyun said. _

_ “But I could stop it. Stop you from getting hurt. I’d do anything for you.” _

_ “Except stay,” Kihyun said. It cut down to the quick of Hoseok’s heart. He bit into his lip again to keep from crying, but it didn’t work. Kihyun shifted so that he could kiss him, leaving fluttering kisses along Hoseok’s jawline. “But I’ll convince you.”  _

_ It was a promise. _

_. _


	5. Chapter 5

Dasom was home when Hoseok stopped by their apartment after his visit with Changkyun in the early evening. Their apartment was a huge, empty living space with too many rooms and not enough character. It had taken them almost a month to agree on a painting to display in the living room behind the couch and they hadn't even broached the subject of how to decorate the bedroom together yet, so for now their bedroom just contained their bed and walk-in closet and a dresser and vanity -- everything in white and neutrals -- and it was enough, though it felt more like a rented hotel room than home. Because home was with Kihyun, Hoseok thought to himself.

He knew Dasom was home because there were pretty red flats by the door that weren't in a cubby-hole in the rack just inside the front door. Dasom was neat in every aspect of her life, it seemed, except for in putting away her shoes. It was a habit Hoseok picked up on quickly. Sighing, Hoseok bent over to hook the shoes by their heels with his fingers and to put them in an empty cubby space in the rack.

“Dasom?” he called. The name echoed back to him in their cavernous home.

“In the kitchen!” his wife returned, her voice clear and strong.

The aromas hit Hoseok, then -- he smelled some savory and salty meat, probably some vegetables in the mix, the tangy waft of a sauce Hoseok couldn't identify. He walked toward the kitchen after toeing off his shoes and leaving his small carry-on duffel bag on the couch in their living room, steeling himself for a couple of hours in close contact with Dasom.

It wasn't that he didn't like Dasom. On the contrary, Hoseok found her to be enjoyable company. It was just that, had he been given a choice, he wouldn't have chosen to marry her. Now, he'd married her according to his father's wishes and still Kihyun had turned up--

Hoseok shook his head, willing himself not to dwell on thoughts of the man he loved. For now. He had to present himself in front of Dasom as though he'd just returned from Japan, as though he'd missed her greatly. He pretended a lot around her, though sometimes it felt like Dasom was simply playing the game also, to appease her family, but Hoseok was too chicken-shit to come out and ask.

The pills Changkyun had supplied him with jangled in his pocket like a little reminder of what he'd come to do. Make an appearance so his wife wouldn't be suspicious, but then come up with an excuse to get back to the office. At which point Hoseok would head to the safe house. 

“You made dinner?” Hoseok asked as he entered their bright kitchen. Everything was white and clean, barely used. Dasom was fluttering about, taking out plates and silverware and pouring two glasses of red wine. She was still in her light blue scrubs from the hospital, her hair up in a messy bun.

“Heck no,” she said, laughing a little. “Picked up a take-out dinner on the way home. Thought it would be a nice way to welcome you back from Japan.”

“Steak?” Hoseok asked, coming closer and peering over Dasom’s shoulder where she was preparing the plates and arranging the food just so. It was a western style meal of grilled meat and sautéed vegetables, a gravy to the side.

“Chicken,” Dasom said. “Isn't that your favorite?”

Hoseok smiled as she turned around to greet him with a quick kiss to his cheek. They rarely kissed on the lips. Dasom never seemed to want it, and Hoseok never pressed. “You remembered.”

She murmured, “Hardly that difficult to remember the most boring meat on the planet. Welcome back. How was Japan?”

The lie slipped out of Hoseok smoothly. “It was good. The client isn't convinced they want to work with us, though. I may have to go back soon.”

“Aw,” Dasom said, pouting.

“Here, let me help with the food.”

They brought their food to the small and sleek dining table on the other side of the counter in the kitchen. Dasom went back to bring their glasses of wine over, and then they sat across from each other at the table and clinked glasses and drank, a small sip for Dasom and a larger pull than Hoseok had intended for himself.

Dasom frowned as they ate. “You look tired.”

Hoseok felt tired. He hadn't really slept since they brought Kihyun in, not a full night, and when he did sleep it was adulterated by restless anxiety. “Long hours,” Hoseok explained. 

Dasom chewed thoughtfully on her food. Hoseok, blissfully ignorant, cut a big piece of chicken and stuffed it into his mouth. She said, “But you still went to see Changkyun at the hospital?”

The chicken went down the wrong pipe in his throat and he sputtered, coughing until he could swallow. “What? Oh, I had something I wanted to talk to him about.”

“As a friend or as a doctor?”

Hoseok cautiously continued to eat, watching Dasom closely. She gave off no tells, but how had she known he met with Changkyun? Had Changkyun told her after all?

“Both,” Hoseok finally said, figuring the answer was broad enough to be safe and the truth.

“You can always come to me if you need medical advice, you know,” Dasom said. “For yourself. For someone else.”

Now there was a glint in her eye, one that made Hoseok nervous. He felt a bit like he'd been cornered, and he found himself eyeing his duffel bag on their couch. In it was packed a few days’ worth of clothes, he and Kihyun's new identities, and an exorbitant amount of cash. He'd had it packed for weeks, even before they found Kihyun. Hoseok's mouth twitched until he was smiling. “Okay, you got me,” he said. “I wanted relationship advice.”

Dasom’s eyes widened and her fork hovered in the air in front of her mouth. “For what? For us?”

Hoseok nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Dasom said, “Changkyun is single.”

“But he gives great advice.”

“And what was his advice?”

“That I should love and cherish you and tell you you're pretty, especially when you're tired.” He let the smile seep into his eyes, his body relaxed. She had to believe him.

She scoffed. “I know you weren't in Japan.”

Hoseok could feel all the blood drain from his face, but just as he felt himself reel from the shock, Dasom continued on.

“You don't have to keep secrets like that from me, Hoseok. We married out of duty. You won't hurt my feelings.”

He was torn. Dasom looked at him expectantly, eyebrow raised, and Hoseok wasn't sure what he was meant to do -- feign innocence and continue with the Japan story, or fess up? And if the latter, how much could he really share with her?

She said, “You're so incredibly nice, Hoseok. It was kind of exciting to learn you had this secret.”

Hoseok cleared his throat. It was like the chicken was still stuck in there, clogging his airway. He hadn't expected anything like this when he stepped into the apartment. He thought maybe they'd eat, drink, watch TV. Dasom would fall asleep on the couch and he'd wake her and help her to the bed and then he'd apologize because he had to go into the office for something urgent. He said, “And what secret is this?”

“That you're cheating on me, of course,” Dasom said. “Or perhaps I'm the mistress in this scenario?”

It wasn't quite everything that Hoseok was keeping from Dasom, but it was what his secret boiled down to. He clenched the fork in his hand hard, until his knuckles were white. “And you're -- okay? With it?”

Dasom hummed and nodded, mouth full of food. After she swallowed her bite she said, “As long as it's reciprocal.”

Hoseok tilted his head in confusion until it clicked. “You want to see other people?”

“It's kind of trendy nowadays,” Dasom said. “An open marriage. As long as our families don't catch wind, and as long as we're open with each other, I don't see the harm in it.”

Hoseok was sure he looked dazzled. Dasom grinned and it actually made his heart flutter a little bit. This practical woman was the woman he'd married. He said in a soft voice, “I don't see the harm in it, either.”

“Great -- I've been sitting on this conversation for weeks so I'm glad it's finally out in the open.” She laughed a little, clearly relieved, and her shoulders even seemed less rounded than they had been just seconds before. 

“Y-yeah,” Hoseok said, still stunned. “Me, too.”

They passed the rest of dinner in amicable conversation. Dasom relayed a story from the hospital involving Changkyun and a harmless mishap resulting in the young doctor falling asleep in front of the vending machine in the lobby that made them both laugh. And after, when Hoseok told her he'd be gone for the night, she didn't bat an eye, and he considered himself lucky.

Maybe things would finally go the way he hoped.

.


	6. Chapter 6

On the way to his hidden apartment to see Kihyun, Hoseok's stomach started to tie itself into knots. He ended up riding the bus out too far and needing to backtrack two stops, distracted and anxious, his fingers fiddling with the strings of the hoodie he was wearing until the ends started to fray.

He got out at the right stop and began to walk. Above his head, the sky was an inky, complete darkness with pinpricks for stars. His duffel bag with the changes of clothes and fake passports bumped against his hip with each step. He kept looking over his shoulder as he walked the sparsely lit streets, watching and waiting for -- something. For someone. Maybe for Dasom. He counted each golden pool of light he strode through from the streetlamps, noticing how each pool of light came fewer and farther between as he neared his apartment. 

He allowed himself a moment to dig down into what was making his body function as though on high alert, and Dasom’s warm, wide smile punctured his thoughts. Walking up the hill to his apartment building, he wondered what it meant. Something didn't sit well with him. She was too accepting, too blasé. Dasom was a celebrated, hard-working and successful doctor who had clawed her way up to the top with her well-manicured nails. Would someone like Dasom so easily concede to a partner who was cheating?

Hoseok thought not.

And how had Dasom known Hoseok was not in Japan these past few days? Not even Hoseok's father had confronted him about his trip, leading Hoseok to believe he was safe from suspicion. But Dasom had known...was she following him? Or having him followed?

It made his skin itch and crawl. He hurried his pace and kept his ears open for any footsteps that might be dogging him, but heard nothing. Still, his brain supplied him with rapid-fire images of what he might find at the apartment -- perhaps the front door on its hinges, bullet holes sprayed in the walls, splashes of blood. Perhaps bodies. He broke out into a run; he needed to see that Kihyun was okay.

.

He arrived at his place slightly breathless, cheeks flushed, and found the front door intact. That was good.

He opened it quickly and locked the door behind him, noticing immediately that the living room was in disarray. This was bad. The throw pillows normally on the couch were strewn throughout the room, and it looked as though a few plates had shattered against the floor. His heart hammered in his chest and he rushed into the kitchen and threw open the cabinet, reaching inside for the handgun he kept against the inside wall. His hand touched cool metal. He took it out, checked the chamber was loaded, and debated announcing his presence.

He didn't have to, though, because a moment later Minhyuk skidded into the living room, holding a towel in his hand, his hair mussed. He threw up his hands when he saw Hoseok was aiming the gun toward his chest. “Woah! You have got to stop doing that.”

“Where's Kihyun,” Hoseok demanded. “Is he okay?”

Minhyuk chuckled, lowering his hands. He said, “He's okay. He threw a little tantrum earlier, but he's okay.”

It didn’t stop the pounding in Hoseok’s heart. “Tantrum?” he asked, confused. He lowered the gun and put the safety on again, but kept it by his side as he walked toward Minhyuk, who slowly turned and began to guide them to the bedroom.

“Uh,” Minhyuk said. “Yeah. He wanted more drugs. But we didn’t have any to give him.”

“And he threw a tantrum?” Hoseok asked, still not quite believing it. Kihyun had always been a little hot-tempered, feisty, but never childish or incapable of reeling it in. He couldn’t picture Kihyun like that, stomping his feet and screaming and probably throwing plates at Minhyuk and Hyungwon who would be trying to calm him down.

“Tired himself out, though,” Minhyuk said quietly as they neared the door to the bedroom. “Hyungwon is with him now.”

“Anything else I should know?”

“That’s all,” Minhyuk said. “It’s been pretty uneventful. You’re here earlier than I thought you’d be, though. And feeling a little anxious, I see.” His eyes landed on the gun still in Hoseok’s hand. “Something I should know about?”

Hoseok bit into his bottom lip, worrying the flesh. “Dasom knows about Kihyun,” he said, and Minhyuk immediately raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I don’t know how much she knows, really. But she knows he exists. She knew I wasn’t in Japan. She could know everything, or she could know nothing. Either way, I don’t think it’s safe here anymore.”

Minhyuk drew up close, shoulder to shoulder with Hoseok. They were in front of the bedroom door now, and lowered their voices. “What do you want to do?”

Hoseok shrugged, a tiny movement. “We should move. I have -- I have everything ready for me and Kihyun.” He patted his duffel bag which was still slung across his shoulder. “But if Kihyun isn’t well enough--”

“If you need to move then you need to move,” Minhyuk said. “One thing I’ve learned in this business is that you have to trust your instincts before it’s too late. Get Kihyun on a plane and give him some diazepam or something.”

Hoseok sighed. “More drugs.”

Minhyuk’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. “Yeah,” he said. “More drugs, or death. I don’t know, pick your poison, I guess.”

They fell into silence, and Hoseok conceded a little. “I’ll see him and decide.”

Minhyuk nodded and rapped on the door with his knuckles. Hyungwon’s voice was soft on the other side. “Come in.”

The blond pushed the door open and it creaked on its hinges, revealing Hyungwon sitting by the bed in a stool Hoseok didn’t remember that he had, hand in Kihyun’s hair as Kihyun shivered under the blankets in bed. Kihyun looked pale, his skin glistening with sweat, and Hyungwon bore dark circles under his eyes.

As soon as Hyungwon saw who was at the door, he stood, his hand trailing away from Kihyun, and Hoseok took his place wordlessly, dropping into the seat and placing his palm gently over Kihyun's forehead. It was cool and clammy, sickly. He looked at Hyungwon, alarmed. “What's happened?”

“It's the withdrawal,” Hyungwon explained calmly. “All we can really do without drugs is try to keep him comfortable. It doesn't seem too severe, from what I can see.”

“What does ‘severe’ look like?”

“Well,” Hyungwon said tonelessly, “he's still breathing.”

Hoseok swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. Kihyun was shivering, eyes moving rapidly behind closed eyelids as Hoseok smoothed his palm back over Kihyun's forehead in slow, repetitive motions. “That's good,” Hoseok said, more to himself than to anyone else. “That's good, then.”

Hoseok felt the world pare down into the way Kihyun's skin felt against his own hand. He knew Hyungwon was leaving, and that Minhyuk was closing the door behind them both to give them some privacy, as he leaned forward to kiss Kihyun's forehead. It could have been just mere moments or hours later that Kihyun's eyelids fluttered, and he groaned, a soft escape of breath between his lips. Hoseok hovered close, inhaling the fresh, dewy scent off Kihyun's skin. He must have showered recently.

“... ‘Seok?” Kihyun's voice was so soft Hoseok almost mistook it for just another breath.

“Yeah?” Hoseok asked, just as softly, shifting forward on the stool. “It's me. I'm here.”

Kihyun's eyelids fluttered open. Hoseok was still absent-mindedly carding his fingers through Kihyun's hair, scratching gently against his scalp. “You came back,” Kihyun whispered.

Hoseok frowned. “Of course I did. I'm not leaving you again. Never again.”

“Even though I'm like this?” Kihyun said, as a chill seemed to spasm through him. He clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering, his eyes unfocused.

“I'm not leaving you,” Hoseok said again, firm and resolute. He thought of Dasom and made his decision. “Kihyun, Kihyunnie, baby, I have to tell you something, okay? Are you listening?”

“Yes,” Kihyun said.

“We have to leave. In the morning. I'm gonna get in touch with my guy, and we're getting out of Seoul. Out of Korea.”

“Out?” Kihyun whispered.

“Out,” Hoseok said. “To safety. To a new life. Together. How does that sound, hm?”

Kihyun smiled, though it was small and uncertain like a shadow flickering in uneven light. “Sounds good,” he said. “Really good.”

Hoseok smiled, too, the weight in his chest lifting. He couldn't stop himself from planting another kiss on Kihyun's forehead, and then the tip of his nose, and then his lips. “Get some sleep, baby,” he said. “I'll take care of you.”

.


	7. Chapter 7

A noise jolted Hoseok from a shallow, fitful sleep. It was a barely-there noise, the slide of shoes against a doormat, the brush of knuckles against the door. He was curled around Kihyun but on top of the covers, clothed and muscles already tensed, as he held his breath waiting for the next sound, all the little hairs on the back of his neck standing upright like there was too much static in the atmosphere.

He checked his phone and the face glowed the time -- 3:42AM -- and reached under his pillow for his handgun. His fingers curled around slightly warm metal.

The floorboards creaked just outside, and a shadow passed under the slit under the door. Kihyun slept on, totally unaware, deeply unconscious. Hoseok thought it was probably the first time in a long while Kihyun was able to rest uninterrupted, and hated himself again for being a reason for that. He unlocked the safety on the gun.

The door swung open quietly, and Hoseok tensed again before realizing it was only Minhyuk on the other side. The other man held a finger to his lips, gun in his right hand. He looked oddly domestic in a white undershirt and sweats, his blond hair like a wreath around his head. He mouthed, _someone at the door_ , and jerked his head in the direction of the hallway.

Hoseok nodded, slipping out of bed quietly also. He looked back at Kihyun, who had not moved, then at the window in the bedroom with the curtains drawn closed. Could someone be just outside the glass, waiting? He decided to check, walking to one side of the window and leaning so that he could see the sliver of space between the curtain and the glass. It was completely dark outside, and no face peered back at him. Hoseok let out a breath slowly, and went to join Minhyuk at the bedroom door.

“Could be nothing,” Minhyuk whispered, eyes narrowed and not quite looking at Hoseok.

“Could be,” Hoseok said just as quietly, hoping that it was. 

Hyungwon slinked up to them, silent as a cat, somehow looking perfectly refreshed. His gun gleamed silver in his hand, and he inclined his head toward the bedroom. “I’ll cover him,” he said, indicating Kihyun.

Hoseok nodded once, a sharp, stilted movement, and then he and Minhyuk advanced, careful to avoid any creaking floorboards.

Hoseok said, “There’s a peephole.”

“I’m aware,” Minhyuk scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Use it.”

Hoseok frowned at him. “No need to be snippy.”

Very carefully, Hoseok closed the distance between himself and the door, and looked through the tiny glass hole into the hallway. There was a fishbowl effect, and the person was wearing a sweater with his hood pulled up, and a black mask covered the lower half of his face. Hoseok could tell that his shoulders, even when distorted through the glass, were broad and built like a bull’s.

It was Hyunwoo.

“Hey,” Hyunwoo said, his voice muffled through the mask and through the door. His voice startled Hoseok. “I know you’re there. Let me in. We need to talk.”

Hoseok didn’t respond. He didn’t even breathe. He was sure that Hyunwoo could hear his heart pounding in his chest even through the wall between them.

“I don’t have anything on me,” Hyunwoo said quietly. “I just want to talk. It’s important.”

“Is that Hyunwoo?” Minhyuk whispered from behind Hoseok. “What the hell -- how did he find us?”

Through the peephole, Hoseok watched as Hyunwoo looked casually over his shoulder down the hallway, then down the other side also. Checking to see if he was being followed, or watched. He thought how purposeful it was that Hyunwoo had not yet said Hoseok’s name aloud. Hoseok’s hand went for the doorknob.

Minhyuk’s fingers were faster than his, and they tightened around Hoseok’s wrist. “What are you doing? Are you insane?”

“I trust him,” Hoseok said.

“He did nothing to help you on your wedding day,” Minhyuk said. “Do you remember that?”

Hoseok drew in a sharp breath, remembering acutely what had happened. Hyunwoo had even been the one to hold him back from Kihyun. From protecting him. But he shook his head at Minhyuk sadly. “And where were you when it all happened at the end? You helped Kihyun in, but did you help him get out?”

Minhyuk’s mouth fell open and he gaped at Hoseok, eyes bright and hurt, face paling in the silver moonlight that seeped in through the windows. Hoseok continued, “I’m not blaming you, because I’m no better. But you’re here now. And so is he.”

Slowly, Minhyuk let go of Hoseok’s wrist. The skin was pink where Minhyuk’s fingers had been. The blond said, “This is stupid,” and stepped back from the door to the kitchen counter, which could be used as a barrier between himself and a spray of bullets, if that’s what it came down to, if Hyunwoo opened fire. Minhyuk stepped into position, gun trained on the door. Hoseok glanced back to the bedroom, where Hyungwon was just inside the door also, eyes glinting in the dark, his own weapon at the ready. Hyungwon nodded and closed the door quietly, hiding both he and Kihyun from plain sight.

Hoseok put his hand on the knob. “Keep your hands where I can see them,” he said to the man on the other side of the door as he opened it.

Light flooded in from the hallway, and Hoseok squinted his eyes against it. Hyunwoo walked in calmly, keeping his hands raised. He tugged his hood and mask down, and waited for Hoseok to close and lock the door behind him, throwing the apartment into darkness again. Hoseok gestured with his gun for Hyunwoo to walk into the living room, to stay standing there with his hands raised. “Check his pockets,” he told Minhyuk and he flipped on the light. It was so quiet that he could hear the hum of electricity as his lights came on.

Minhyuk frisked Hyunwoo quickly and efficiently, running his hands over Hyunwoo's arms and torso, down each leg. Hyunwoo was clean, and when Minhyuk said so to Hoseok, Hoseok let out a sigh of relief and lowered his weapon.

“All right,” Hoseok said. “You can lower your hands, but stay right there. What did you want to talk about?”

Hyunwoo’s gaze was piercing, sharp. Unrelenting. If Hoseok were any other man in any other position he’d bet his knees would quake under that stare. But Hoseok only tilted his chin up, shoulders pulled back.

“Kihyun,” Hyunwoo said. “Is he still here?”

“I haven’t seen Kihyun in months,” Hoseok said steadily, his thumb playing against the safety of his gun as he forced the panic that had swelled at Hyunwoo's question down. “What makes you think he’s here?”

Hyunwoo’s gaze shifted over to Minhyuk, then back to Hoseok. “I know he’s here,” Hyunwoo said, self-assured. He always spoke as though every word held absolute truth behind them. “I tracked Minhyuk’s cards, followed you. You’ve been here a couple of days. I’ve laid low. Minhyuk goes out for supplies with another man. Another man who’s been blacklisted now at one of your father’s clubs for trashing one of the backrooms. Where Kihyun was being kept.”

Hoseok felt anger, instantaneous and hot, boil up inside of him. “You knew where Kihyun was? For how long?”

Hyunwoo shook his head. “I didn’t know. I just made the connection. If I had known--” He paused, swallowed, eyes filling with remorse. “If I had known, I would have told you sooner.”

“Feeling guilty?” Hoseok asked nastily. He felt like his heart was full of barbs. Who was Hyunwoo to turn up here, now. Where was this Hyunwoo before, before everything had happened?

Hyunwoo swallowed again. “Yes,” he said simply. Because it was Hyunwoo, Hoseok knew it was the truth.

Hoseok grimaced. “Why are you here?”

“To warn you,” Hyunwoo said. “I found out about this place. It was only a matter of time before someone else did.”

Something didn’t feel right in Hoseok’s gut. Hyunwoo was a smart man, and resourceful, and resilient. But mostly, he was obedient. “Did Dasom put you up to this?” Hoseok asked.

An emotion worked itself across Hyunwoo’s face that Hoseok didn’t recognize. Amusement? Relief? He said, “She’s certainly not someone to be underestimated,” and the corner of Hyunwoo’s lip ticked upwards into a tiny, unfamiliar smile.

.


	8. Chapter 8

Hoseok and Minhyuk sat around the coffee table on the couch and loveseat, watching as Hyunwoo made a call on his phone and put it on speaker as the call connected. Dasom’s name and profile picture lit up on the screen when she picked up.

“Hello?” she answered, clipped and measured. Her voice was tinny but clear. It was four in the morning and she sounded the same the same as though she’d answered the phone after a boring meeting in the middle of the day. Hoseok wondered if Dasom had been waiting for their call. “This is Dasom.”

“It’s Hyunwoo.”

“I know who it is,” Dasom said with a light, airy laugh, and Hoseok wondered how often they spoke to each other like this, for her to sound so casual and easy with Hyunwoo. Not that he was jealous, just that he hadn't expected Hyunwoo and Dasom to be connected and involved with each other beyond their common link of himself. “What are you calling for? It’s the middle of the night.”

Hoseok made eye contact with Minhyuk, who was in the seat adjacent to the couch. Was Dasom playing innocent right now? Minhyuk shrugged, reading and responding to Hoseok's expression and frowning.

Hyunwoo sighed and let his shoulders drop a little bit. “The friend you asked me to look for...I found him.”

Again, Hoseok and Minhyuk looked at each other, and Minhyuk’s frown deepened. 

“You’re with him right now?”

“That’s right.”

“Hm,” Dasom said. “Thanks. It’s a shame that Hoseok had to go to Tokyo again on such short notice. It would have been nice for my friend to meet him.”

Hoseok’s brow furrowed as the gears turned in his mind. Dasom had clearly told him that she knew he hadn’t gone to Japan in the first place. And now she was saying he’d had to return? For whose benefit was she spinning this lie? Could the lie be for Hyunwoo, who was sitting across from Hoseok and knew his exact whereabouts? Or could there be someone else listening? Nothing was as it seemed. The careful steps Hoseok had taken to keep Kihyun safe had been for nothing. He trusted too much, got lazy, and now it was all unraveling. What else did he not know?

“Anyway,” Dasom continued. “I’ll tell you what I told Hoseok’s father -- his son is going to be away for a few days again on business. Maybe over a week, even. So could you relay the message to the friend?”

“I could,” Hyunwoo said.

“Thank you.” There was a pause on Dasom’s side. She said, “Good luck, then. And, you know, my friend owes me a favor.”

Somehow, Hoseok felt that the last words were directed at him, even though he wasn’t even certain Dasom knew he’d been on the call also, silently listening. They hung up.

Minhyuk inhaled, deeply, sitting up straighter as the silence resounded in the living room and gave room for the conversation they'd just witnessed to percolate in their minds. He said, “Dasom gave you a few days buffer.”

“But why?” Hoseok asked, facing Hyunwoo now and slowly coming to terms with what Dasom had communicated to them in coded language. “Why help me? Why help me _now_?”

“I’ll admit she probably has her own agenda,” Hyunwoo said, “but for now I would advise against you looking a gift horse in the mouth.”

“I’ve taken too many things for granted lately,” Hoseok said as firmly as he could, putting all the accumulated gravitas of his years as the son of a mafia boss into his voice. “If there’s something you’re not telling me about Dasom and what you’re doing with her or for her, I need to know.”

Hyunwoo’s face remained flat and expressionless, but then his eyebrow twitched and Hoseok thought it might have been an outward manifestation of sympathy. He honed in on that tic, staring unrelenting until Hyunwoo folded the way a balloon deflated when you let the air out slowly. “Listen,” Hyunwoo said. “Dasom has a plan. She needs you alive later for it.”

“I was doing all right,” Hoseok defended himself.

“Maybe,” Hyunwoo said with a shrug. “But she decided for one reason or another that she couldn’t take that chance.”

“Why are you helping her?”

“Instead of your father?” Hyunwoo responded. Hoseok nodded, and, after a moment, again Hyunwoo flashed that tiny, unfamiliar smile. He didn’t have to say anything else, because Hoseok thought maybe he understood. Hoseok smiled like that around Kihyun and he’d follow Kihyun to the ends of the earth and beyond.

“Minhyuk,” Hoseok said. “Stay here with Hyunwoo. I have to make a call.”

.

Hoseok went into the room with Hyungwon and Kihyun to make the call.

“He’s still here?” Hyungwon asked quietly, moving to guard the door. 

“Still here,” Hoseok responded. “A friend, but. Not sure for how long. Keep an eye on him with Minhyuk, would you?”

Hyungwon nodded, looking back to the figure on the bed before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Hoseok listened for a moment, but there was only the sound of quiet conversation, and no explosions or gunshots, and so he deemed it safe.

Kihyun was no longer asleep, but sitting up on the mattress, his narrow shoulders thin and hunched under Hoseok's hoodie. He reached for Hoseok, lifting his arms even though he was trembling from the effort.

“Baby,” Hoseok said quietly, going to him and sitting by him on the bed. Kihyun fell against him, burying his face against Hoseok's chest and breathing in deep. “Hyunwoo is outside.”

He felt Kihyun's fingers dig into him where he held onto Hoseok. “To take me back?”

“No,” Hoseok whispered, horrified. “I'd never let that happen. He's here to -- help. I think. To warn us, anyway. We're getting out of here.”

“When?” Kihyun's voice was thin. Hoseok held him carefully like he was made of spun sugar. “How?”

“Soon,” Hoseok said. “On the next flight to Los Angeles. Just you and me. I just need to make a call. You okay?”

“Fine,” Kihyun said. “I'm fine.” He settled against Hoseok more comfortably like he was making a nest out of him, like he was trying to fit inside of Hoseok's bones. When Kihyun murmured, “Los Angeles…” like he was trying to decide if he was still dreaming or not, Hoseok held him tighter.

.

It was early afternoon in Los Angeles. Jooheon picked up on the second ring, his voice bright and jovial.

“Hyung! It's so nice of you to call.”

Hoseok grinned, one arm around Kihyun's shoulders and the other occupied with holding his phone to his ear as Kihyun listened from where he was cradled against Hoseok's chest. “I called,” Hoseok acknowledged. “It's urgent.”

“Oh?” Jooheon asked. “Eagle needs to fly?”

“What did I say about code names?”

“Um, that they're awesome?” Jooheon squealed. He laughed into the phone, undeterred by Hoseok's graver tone. “Okay, okay. Let me sit down. You're lucky you caught me in between classes. Okay, found a seat. Got my laptop with me. So, when are you looking?”

“When's the soonest?” Hoseok asked.

“From now? How soon can you get to Incheon? I'll put you on the next flight.”

“Do that.” Hoseok looked at Kihyun nestled up against him, and curled his arm tighter around him. Kihyun flushed, healthy and rosy after so many days of looking no sturdier than rice paper. “Give us a two hour window.”

There was a pause wherein if Hoseok listened closely, he could hear the sounds of Jooheon's fingertips typing away on his laptop. Then Jooheon said, "Done," in what Hoseok thought was way too short an amount of time for someone to hack into an airline's booking system and secure tickets. But ever since Hoseok had started working with him, Jooheon was as reliable as the rising sun. “I'll send you details in a few minutes.”

“Great.” Hoseok sighed, releasing a breath he'd been keeping tight in his chest. “And Jooheon? Thank you.”

“Hey,” Jooheon said. “Anything for my favorite hyung.”

He hung up. Hoseok looked at his phone, and only seconds later, the screen lit up with a notification. Jooheon had forwarded him their flight details, booked under the names on their forged passports in Hoseok's duffel bag.

“Who was that?” Kihyun asked, his voice breaking through the silence like light through fog.

“A friend,” Hoseok began slowly, thinking of how to describe Jooheon. “He was a street kid. Joined the gang. Wanted out. And I helped him. So now he loves me. He's going to school now.”

“A true philanthropist,” Kihyun murmured.

“Or just trying to alleviate my guilt.”

Kihyun shifted to kiss Hoseok's jawline, and his lips felt soft and feathery.

“What about Minhyuk and Hyungwon?”

“They'll be okay,” Hoseok said.

“They're not coming, too?” Hoseok stayed quiet, and Kihyun said, soft and reluctant, “They've been kind to me.”

Hoseok's heart twisted inside of him as he thought about what Kihyun was implying, what it meant to have to leave Minhyuk and Hyungwon behind. Minhyuk, Hoseok knew, would have to find a way to lay low once it got out that Hoseok was missing and not just visiting Japan. But Minhyuk was quick and resourceful, and he had many connections inside and outside of Seoul that even Hoseok wasn't aware of. “They're smart and they've got each other,” Hoseok told Kihyun. “They'll be okay.”

He felt Kihyun sigh, and when the younger man spoke again his voice was fuller, hardened. “Okay,” Kihyun said. “Then let's go.”

.


	9. Chapter 9

They took Hyunwoo’s car, a gray sedan, to Bucheon, and in Bucheon they drove into the first parking structure they could locate and switched cars, finding two other gray sedans of the same make and model with relative ease that they could break into and steal. Hyunwoo stayed in his own car and drove out of Bucheon back towards Seoul, and from there he’d carve his way down to Busan as they’d discussed, in case anyone of Hoseok’s father’s ilk was watching and following. Hyunwoo had assured them all that Dasom would help him make a clean getaway; he’d likely even be able to return as Hoseok’s father’s right hand without suspicion.

“Why would you want to do that?” Kihyun had asked, leaning heavily against Hoseok in the backseat of Hyunwoo’s car on their way to Bucheon. He was still weak and the movement of the car made him feel ill, so he was trying very hard to breathe only through his nose, or only through his mouth, but nothing made him feel better. His head was fuzzy with noise, and nothing seemed to stick to his brain. Hyungwon had assured him this would get better over time, when his brain stopped craving the dope.

Hyunwoo looked at him in the rearview mirror. It was the first time Kihyun felt like Hyunwoo was really seeing him. He said, “To keep an eye on him, until Hoseok returns.”

Kihyun pressed his palm against Hoseok’s sternum, feeling his heartbeat slow and steady, a reassuring pace. Hoseok breathed deep and said, “I don’t think I’ll be returning.”

Hyunwoo didn’t say anything to that.

In Bucheon, Hyungwon took another one of the gray sedans. He’d go back to Seoul, stay in Hoseok’s not-so-secret apartment for another week, and then make his way elsewhere. He’d assured them that what he did very well was disappear.

Minhyuk, Hoseok, and Kihyun took the final gray sedan. They drove to Incheon International, Minhyuk in the driver’s seat and Kihyun and Hoseok in the back, ducked low for most of the ride. Kihyun watched as Hoseok checked into their flight on his phone, flicking deftly through the screens. Hoseok mumbled when he was done, “Jooheon got us Fast Track clearance.”

“That’s good?” Kihyun asked.

“It’s good,” Hoseok said, before reminding Kihyun again of their cover story.

Right around when they were pulling into the international departures at the airport, Minhyuk said, “We’re being followed.”

“Are you positive?” Hoseok asked, his voice a deep rumble in his chest. Kihyun’s eyelids fluttered at the sound where he was, laying against Hoseok. He wanted very much to sleep, but he knew he had to stay awake. To him, the danger of the situation felt both very far and very near. It was like Kihyun was swathed in cotton all over, and it dulled his senses and emotions in a way he hated.

“Yes,” Minhyuk said.

“Go around again,” Hoseok instructed.

They’d pulled up to the curb but Minhyuk peeled away without letting them off, slowly easing his way into the stream of cars again and leaving the departures drop-off zone of the airport. He kept his eyes trained on the road and said as he made a loop around the airport, “Black sedan, behind us.”

Hoseok pushed himself up so that he could crane his neck and look over the back of the seat and out of the rear window of the car. Kihyun stayed where he was.

“He looks familiar,” Hoseok said, ducking back down. “We have to lose him.”

“I’ll pull into long-term parking,” Minhyuk said.

The car made a few turns. Kihyun saw Minhyuk putting on the turn signal for the right, but then he turned left, into the parking lot. The black sedan drove past them, but would undoubtedly double back.

“Let’s go, let’s get out,” Minhyuk said quickly. He sped up and pulled into the first space that was empty, and helped Hoseok and Kihyun get out of the vehicle, ushering them both to the entrance to the airport connected to the long-term parking lot. It was quite a walk, across a few rows of cars, and by the time they reached the double doors into the covered walkway that would lead to the check-in counters and security gates, Kihyun was out of breath, his legs unsteady. Hoseok’s grip on his upper arm was strong, and he felt certain that if Hoseok let go, Kihyun would simply collapse.

“I can’t,” Kihyun pleaded. “I’m tired.”

“It’s just a little further, baby,” Hoseok said, easing up on his grip but not letting go. They slowed, minutely, but it was a enough to give Kihyun some room to breathe. “That’s right,” Hoseok encouraged quietly. “Just keep moving.”

Minhyuk was behind them. He kept turning back to check for something, and it took a moment for Kihyun to connect the dots. Right, they were still being chased. He tried to move faster, but his body didn’t feel like it was his own anymore. It was like trying to move through molasses.

They passed through another set of automatic doors into a wall of cool air. Announcements were being made by a calm, female voice on the speakers, calling for missing passengers to report to their gates. They walked to a crowd of people and Kihyun realized it was the security clearance line.

They waited for a moment before Minhyuk stepped toward them, shielding them with his body, and said, “He’s here.”

Hoseok’s grip around Kihyun’s arm tightened again. They looked back at the double doors, where a man had just entered. He paused and looked left, and then right, taking in the entire scene. Minhyuk pushed them forward into one of the shorter lines -- Fast Track. “I’ll distract him,” he said.

Kihyun wasn’t sure how he was going to do that, but he felt in his gut that it was dangerous. He darted out his hand to grab Minhyuk’s sleeve. “Be careful,” he whispered. Minhyuk gave him a quick, one-armed hug, and then hugged Hoseok for a little longer.

“Be safe,” Minhyuk responded, his voice thick. “Let me know -- somehow -- when you’re safe. Okay?”

“Minhyuk,” Hoseok said. “ _Thank you_.”

He left. Kihyun saw how he circumvented the crush of people near the double doors and then caught the eye of the man pursuing them. Minhyuk waved like he was seeing an old friend, and the man frowned, confused, as Minhyuk approached him openly, slung an arm around his shoulders, and started to walk them both away from the main room and to the side, to the bathrooms.

“Focus on getting through this, Kihyun,” Hoseok said, his breath warm against Kihyun’s ear. Kihyun swiveled his attention to the front again, trying not to think about what Minhyuk was doing for them. They were close to the guard already. Kihyun’s heart was trembling.

Kihyun realized, “I’m scared.”

“We’re just two friends,” Hoseok said, reminding Kihyun again of their story. “We were visiting some friends here and now we’re going home. We’re from Los Angeles. We moved there when we were kids.”

“We’re just going home,” Kihyun repeated.

“That’s right.”

They had reached the guard. He was a middle-aged looking man, tired but stern, and he peered at Kihyun carefully when Hoseok gave him their passports.

“You can’t go through the screener together,” he said, noting how Hoseok was holding onto Kihyun’s arm. He was still looking at their passports, scanning them and then their faces. Kihyun wanted to cry. He knew he looked like shit, and that was suspicious.

“I know,” Hoseok said with a charming smile on his face. “It’s just -- Kihyunnie here is really scared of flying.”

“Terrified,” Kihyun agreed, nodding.

“And yet you flew here,” the guard stated. “From the United States.”

Kihyun swallowed and nodded again, trying to think of what he could say. He squeaked, “I was asleep for most of it.”

The guard sighed. Scanned their passports again. Then he finally flipped them closed and nodded at them to continue. “Don’t let your legs fall out from under you,” he told Kihyun.

They were through.

.

Hoseok bought them two pay-as-you-go phones while waiting for their flight. They could use them in America, he told Kihyun, while they were setting themselves up in their new lives. He followed Hoseok around until he couldn’t anymore, and then they were boarding, and Hoseok was putting their duffel full of everything they were bringing with them from Seoul into the overhead compartment.

The cotton swathed around Kihyun was warm and dense. They were leaving. What was Kihyun leaving behind? He couldn’t remember. It wasn’t important, because he was with Hoseok. He fell asleep before the plane even left the runway.

.

Halfway through the flight, Hoseok woke up him for the meal. It was Korean-style bibimbap. Kihyun’s stomach twisted at the sight of the hot pepper paste, but he thought he could probably manage some rice and vegetables, and ate as much as he could. Hoseok, next to him, finished his whole meal and what was left over from Kihyun’s, kissing Kihyun’s temple when they were done and telling him how he was so proud Kihyun ate so well. Kihyun flushed, feeling small and childlike under Hoseok’s care. The food made him sleepy again, but Hoseok had important information he had to share, so Kihyun fought to stay awake.

First, Hoseok told him about customs. They would have to go through customs when they reached America. And Kihyun would have to do it alone. Hoseok coached him on the questions the customs officials might ask, and how to respond. Kihyun did his best to repeat after Hoseok exactly as he said.

Then, Hoseok told him about America. Things would be different there, he promised. They could be happy together. They could do whatever they wanted. The beach would be so close, and the city was beautiful.

Kihyun fell asleep against Hoseok’s shoulder, dreaming of the water, and the sun, and Hoseok’s hand in his as they walked along the shore. They'd make a home for themselves, soon.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for sticking with this fic and reading <3
> 
> if you're interested, [i've opened up commissions!](https://sites.google.com/view/yaya-writes-stuff/home) trying something new :)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! comments appreciated <3
> 
> for the 'america' square in kiho bingo.
> 
> i'm also on [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/yayawrites)!


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